Clash of the Titans
by palewhite n icecold
Summary: Only two more weeks before the start of my Senior year, and I can't wait. Jasper (my best friend) and I have been making plans all summer to insure we make the best out of it. Armed with a "to-do" list, and an aversion to failure, I make a promise to myself that this year will be awesome, no matter what. That is, if Edward Cullen stays the hell out of my way!


A/N:  
I know this story has probably been done to death, and you're sitting there thinking "been there, done that, bought the shirt", but I'm hoping to make this fun and refreshing for all. If you've read any of my other stories, you'll see a very depressing pattern. I realized I needed to step back and take a break from all the angsty, gloomy, highly depressing shit I've been writing. So, give it a chance... What do you have to lose?

**Chapter 1: Prologue**

_Left, right, left, right..._

"Come on, Freckles! Find the fuckin' tempo before I shove that trumpet up your ass!"

The first day of band camp is always brutal— marching for countless hours, up and down a barren football field in the sweltering Arizona heat.

"Pick. Up. Your. Fucking. Feet!" Jasper enunciates each word to the beat of the metronome while stomping his feet on the ground. "Come on people, what are we doing here? The zombie shuffle?"

I lower my flute and wipe the sweat from my brow.

"Get back in formation, Swan!"

I start walking off the field and huff when I hear Jasper running up behind me.

He hisses and a low voice, "You're supposed to set an example, Bella. It doesn't look good for you to undermine my authority in front of the fresh meat."

_If I had a nickel for every time I heard him say that..._

A quick history lesson on the subject of me and Jasper: we've been best friends for the last 7years— since he moved to Phoenix from Forks, Washington when we were 10. We do everything together, which is why I'm stuck marching in 100 degree weather when I'd rather be at home reading a book. Though, I enjoy playing in the Arcadia High School Band and have a respectable amount of Titan spirit, Jasper takes this shit serious. Being the ultimate over-achiever he is, he made Field Commander at 14 and hasn't been overtaken yet.

_Perfection is what he expects, mediocrity is not an option._

"Give it a rest already! They're dropping like flies out there, Jas! The second trombone passed out at the 50 yard line and we lost a clarinet at the 2o!" I yell at him over my shoulder while making my way to the much needed shade of an old Birch tree.

With a huff, Jasper raises his coveted bullhorn and yells, "Times up, fuckers! I suggest you all get your shit together before tomorrow!"

I guzzle my water and rest my back against the rough bark with a sigh.

Only two more weeks before the start of my Senior year, and I can't wait. Jasper and I have been making plans all summer to insure we make it the best year yet. You see, with our station on the lowest rung of the social ladder, our high school experiences have been minimal-to-none to the point that it's pathetic. We've always done what people expect of us— straight "A" students walking the straight and narrow all the way to college. _But this year... this year will be different._ While our classmates were attending summer school to make up for their failed classes, we were making a list— a "to do" list to be specific— of all the things we want to accomplish before we graduate: skip a day of school, get drunk at a party, get in a fight... You get the idea. It's a right of passage that we just don't want to miss.

While I smile at the thought of a new year, the dust from a dozen stomping cleats flies in my face, and I glare at the football players as they jog passed.

"Hey, Em. You ever seen that movie American Pie?" A voice snickers beside me.

_I know that voice..._

My eyes dart to the right just in time to see Edward Cullen snatch my flute off the ground.

A quick history lesson on the subject of me and Edward: We've known each other our whole lives and have disliked one another for precisely that long. The saying 'opposites attract' is completely false when it comes to the two of us. And to say we are complete opposites would be a huge understatement. Example 1: The year I went out for band, he went out for football. Example 2: When I got into the Debate club, he got into Jessica Stanley's pants. Example 3: When I reached the milestone that is maturity... Well, he never did.

"Hey! Give that back," I yell, jumping to my feet and lunging toward him.

Edward laughs and holds the flute out of my reach. "I don't think so, little bird. I know what u do with this thing. It's disgusting."

Narrowing my eyes, I jump one last time to try and snatch it from his hands. "You're a pig!"

He only snorts and holds it higher. "I'll tell ya what... I'll give it back if you ask nicely."

I stop jumping, and as much as I hate myself for even thinking about doing it, I ask with the most congenial voice I can muster, "Can I have my flute back... Please."

"Uh, uh, uh..." Edward shakes his head and turns to his team mate, Emmett, smiling mischeiviously. When he turns back to me, his smile drops. "Call it what it is, Nerd. I want to here you say, "Can I have my dildo back, please?"

My jaw drops, and I immediately start calculating my savings and checking accounts to surmise if I have enough money to say _'screw him'_ and just buy a new instrument.

"Say it, Swan," he warns, holding the flute like a bat, taking a few practice swings before aiming it at the tree beside him.

I suck in a deep breath and close my eyes tight, biting my lip to keep from crying. I hate being humiliated. Especially when it's by Edward Cullen.

He continues to taunt me, holding the flute over my head, repeating himself over and over. "Say it! Say it! Say it!"

"Just give her it to her, man. We're gonna be late for practice." Emmett jerks the flute from Edward's hands and holds it out for me to take.

Edward glares at Emmett, then stalks off toward the practice field.

"Thanks," I mumble, taking my flute, too embarrassed to look up.

When I finally look up, Emmett shifts his helmet from his right hand to his left and scratches his head. "He can be a dick sometimes."

He looks down at the ground between us and starts again. "Listen, I'm sorry..."

"Hey, Em! You coming or what?"

Emmett looks over his shoulder at Edward, who simply holds his arms out and mouths _'What are you doing?'._

When he turns back, he smiles apologetically and pats my shoulder. "See ya, Swan," he says before walking away.

During summer break I made myself a promise that my senior year was going to be awesome, no matter what. It took the whole three months to make myself believe it, yet it only took a matter of minutes for all hopes of an awesome year to be squashed like a bug underneath Edward Cullen's shoe.

_Senior year is gonna suck!_

* * *

_I promise this won't be the typical shy, anti-social Bella. Remember what she said, she wants to break out, get wild... And that's exactly what she's going to do. _

_Watch out, Arcadia High!_

_Let me know what you think : )  
_


End file.
